0035
by Ookami J
Summary: Nnoitra is dying after his fight with Kenpachi and Nelliel goes to try to help him. He sees a peculiar image in his final moments, that image being...? NnoiNel fanfiction, set during their past life. Slight OOC. Rated for language and planned smut. Please R&R. I DO NOT OWN BLEACH NOR NNOITRA AND NELLIEL.
1. Prologue

**PROLOGUE.**

Red. The whole of the black and white world was coloured red as Nnoitra fell to the ground, hair billowing behind him like a black satin cloak stained with blood and dust. It seemed to take forever, even with the relatively small distance—Though it should have taken mere seconds, in Nnoitra's mind it felt like aeons before his chest collided with the bone white sand, knocking whatever air was left in his lungs out. His own blood dyed the fine grains, a crimson blot that would vanish almost as soon as he did, a non-existent memoir of a battle that once was. This was the way he'd wanted to die, the perfect death for a warrior. How long had he loathed Nelliel for denying him the very honour he was being granted now, but the Quinta couldn't help but feel... Bitter about the situation. Perhaps his bitterness was caused by the mere fact that he knew he would be forgotten, and soon—Hollows held no value in remembering fallen comrades, having no need for any such emotions. The Shinigami, too, would wipe him and his battle from their memories. In that, he'd have died without making an impact on not one person... Even that loyal swine, Tesla, was dead. Had he the strength, Nnoitra would have grimaced at the thought but even keeping his heavy eyelid open was a gruelling task.

The red in his vision was fading, the normal colours of his world returning slowly but surely. He had no idea how long he lay there, staring at one spot in front of his death-glazed eye, but he finally noticed what (or whom) his vision was directed at and it made his cloudy mind reel. Nelliel, still bearing the small child form she had when their battle had been cut short. He saw that her hazy hazel eyes were directed at him, a confused expression gracing her childlike features as the glaze slowly left her large orbs. Nnoitra saw her lips move, but didn't have a clue what it was she had said... Not that it mattered. Darkness had begun to tint the edges of his already-impaired vision and it was closing in fairly quickly. _Not fuckin' fast enough..._He thought to himself as he watched the object of his long-running hatred prop herself up onto the rock behind her to help her stand up and steady herself, expression worried. The fading Espada thought he saw glints of wetness in her eyes, but he passed that off to his dying state—The only thing that could mean was tears, and there was no way even a strange Arrancar like Nelliel, who seemed to have more feelings than most, would shed tears for him. No bloody way. That's why he didn't understand what was happening when the small, green-clad form of the ex-Tercera began to run towards him with apparent determination. Again, he saw her lips move but the words they formed didn't reach his ears; All he could hear was a painful, deafening silence.

When the child fell at his broken body, he saw that he hadn't been seeing things earlier. There were, in fact, moist droplets running from her eyes like liquid diamonds; The child began to push at his side in an attempt to turn him over, to no avail. Just when Nnoitra thought he couldn't be any more baffled by the female's actions, a cloud of powder pink smoke surrounded the two and Nelliel finally managed to turn the tall man over, his own weight was lifted off of his chest and so allowed him to take a raspy breath of cold air. It soon became clear why she was able to finally move him—She was no longer in her meagre child form, but now in her scantily-clad, voluptuous one. That was the only thing that had changed, though, as her demeanour and tear-soaked cheeks remained the same. A muffled stream of words finally started to reach his ears and he realised they must be coming from Nelliel's ever-moving lips. He soon caught snippets of the sentences broken up by heavy sobs:

"...Nnoitra..."

"... You can't die..."

"... Say something! Show me you're alive..."

"... I can save you..."

Another heavy breath rattled his destroyed lungs and a blood-coated cough sent white hot pain through his body; At the cue, Nelliel's eyes widened and she dropped her face onto his chest, in turn smearing crimson onto her skin. "Nnoitra..." She sniffed, smiling slightly when she felt his chest rise again.

"Get... The fuck... Off..." A weak, raspy voice reached the woman's ears and she got off instantly, earning her a deathly glare from Nnoitra's single violet eye. "Can't ya... Lemme... Even... Die... In fuckin' peace...?" Each word was weak, almost whispered, and the sentence was fractured by the biggest breaths the tall man could take, which were tiny and painful considering the state of his respiratory organs. He couldn't, however, explain the tiny amount of strength he had regained since this woman had arrived at his side; Moments ago, he barely had it in him to keep his eye open and now, however broken and quiet it was, he was speaking? It should have been impossible, and yet...

"You're not going to die, Nnoitra." He heard Nelliel say, her voice slightly stronger than before.

"Tche... Like hell... I'm not..." Nnoitra was beyond hope of repair, and he knew it. Nelliel should have known it, too, but there she went again with her false sense of hope. Espada had no need for 'hope', and yet she clung to it and it brought her to difficult situations time and time again—Her banishment being a prime example. "I ain't... Gonna live... So get... Fuckin' over it..." He watched her eyes soften while she looked at his face, which was full of certainty. There was no getting out of this. So, the woman lay down on her back, looking up at the eternally black sky, next to Nnoitra who didn't have the strength to move his head to look down at her. "The fuck's... Your problem...?"

He heard Nelliel shake her head on the sand. "Ssshh. Don't waste your strength."

"I ain't-..." A sharp intake of breath coming from his own lips cut him off, the blankness that had been slowly inching away at his consciousness flashed over his vision entirely for a moment, only to reveal a curious image to him; Blood everywhere, shouting and screaming in a language he couldn't understand... But the centrepiece of the image were two people; a tall man with long black hair obscuring half of his face and a woman, brown haired but with sea green splatters decorating it. The two were laying side by side, no life in their eyes, crimson marring their uniforms and flesh... But what shocked and baffled Nnoitra most was that he recognised the two. Recognised them as himself and Nelliel, but different, as if in a different world... But as quickly as it had appeared, the image faded.

Thoughts whirred in Nnoitra's head—Why had he seen that? What the fuck was it supposed to mean? Who-

Then it clicked.

"Shit..." He muttered, his eye closing slowly. "From that... fuckin' far back... Huh...?" And, before he could hear the confused reply Nelliel gave him, Nnoitra's eye closed, the darkness that had been threatening to overtake him for so long finally closing in.

Nnoitra passed away into eternal slumber.

* * *

A/N:

Hello! Thank you for taking the time to read this, my very first fanfiction! This chapter is, of course, only the Prologue of the story and there will be much more to come but I hope you enjoyed this fraction of the NnoiNel story I am writing. My current plan is quite different to my original plan for this story, the first being that there would be three chapters (One about Nelliel and Nnoitra's days as the Tercera and Octava, one about the time of the battle with Kenpachi and what happened after it [the end of which I took and used here, as the Prologue] and the third about the past life of the two), but I've changed that to only concentrating on their past life with only this here concerning their Arrancar lifetimes.

Honestly, I have no clue how long this will turn out but I hope it'll go well. Please review to notify me about any mistakes I have made, I will be more than happy to change them! Constructive criticism is also more than welcome, but flames will not be appreciated. I know I'm most definitely not the best writer out there (far from it!), but even the worst doesn't deserve some of the flames I've seen.

I hope this suits your tastes, NnoiNel fandom! Please read on when I finally manage to post the first proper chapter, which will hopefully be a lot longer than this~

~Kami~

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach! That is the marvellous work of Kubo-sensei~


	2. Chapter 1 The Officer

_Let me bring to your attention that in this part of the fanfic Nnoitra has both eyes intact... So no sessy eyepatch right now! …_

* * *

"**ATTE-ENTION!**" called the Officer, pacing in front of the bad of new recruits fresh from their safe homes. A few of the young soldiers were shaking in their boots as their temporary leader scrutinised them with a dark look, though most were looking up with fixated pride and determination. Brainwashing; Aizen and his cronies had done a good job of it in those "Aizen Youth Organisation" places, not to mention the education system back at home. Most kids grew up to be like these, patriotic machines whose only purpose was to serve that man with ridiculous hair. The Officer remembered his recruitment like it was just yesterday—he was different to these robots, never indoctrinated like the rest of his 'comrades' but neither was he quaking at the sight of his superior. Instead he stood upright and and proud, damn excited by the prospect of oncoming battles and slaughter. In fact, it seemed he may have looked much like the youth smirking defiantly at the end of his line of boys. The Officer smirked back in appreciation before walking back down the in the opposite direction to the young man with blue dyed hair.

Back in front of his men, the officer snapped his black riding crop dangerously against his leather gloved hand with a menacing, sadistic grin drawing shadows of fear into the eyes of even those brainwashed idiots. "Brats." He growled, the recruits hearing him clearly over the bustle of the courtyard. "Y're all just brats. Hear ya all wanted to go out 'n' fight on the front lines—HA!" A near deafening bang rang out, followed by a heavy thud. The recruits looked dumbly amongst one another in shock, from the smoking barrel of the gun now hanging limply from their superior's hand to the man with a shaved head and filthy striped pyjamas; The man with a hole in his head. Some people briefly glanced around to see what had happened, but when they saw the prisoner Jew they quickly lost interest and walked away—They cared nothing for what they saw as the dirt of the world.

"That's how y'd end up in yer state; dead with no chance to even defend y'self. That there filth was gonna get gassed anyway, bullet was a mercy he didn't deserve for shit, but all 'a ya lil' boys would'a ended up just the same. Or worse." Gun snugly back in its holster, the Officer placed his hands behind his back and his face became serious. "Under me, y'll stop bein' brats 'n' will turn into men. With Nnoitra Gilga, you'll be able to die with honour in battle 'n' not like pigs at a slaughterhouse. Now get yer puny asses to tha mess an' eat some fuckin' grub."

* * *

_Several hours later – Bar_

"A lot of the new recruits show quite some promise. I'm sure that after some training..."

Nnoitra was sat at the bar, blatantly ignoring the consistent blathering of a fellow officer who was sitting beside him. The guy was fairly new to the job and still got too damn excited about everything that ever happened which may have been at all out of the ordinary... Then again, he got excited about the most ordinary things as well, such as the fact that the commanding officer of the renowned Fifth Squadron was giving him the time of day when in fact he really didn't give a shit about what the young guy was saying. He was far more interested in his whisky and the way the new barmaid's curvaceous body looked in that corset. After downing the last of the golden liquid from his glass, he slammed it down onto the counter and called for her attention.

"Oi, wench! Get us another!" A guffaw escaped him as he watched the woman's face twist into a displeased frown at his words whilst strutting up and grabbing the glass from the wooden surface.

"How abouts askin' nicely, huh?" Huffed the brunette, deep brown orbs glaring at Nnoitra with distaste but with some mild amusement behind the narrowed eyes. "I ain't no wench, _Officer_."

Nnoitra was highly amused at the strong sound of sarcasm in her voice, though noted that she was lucky he was in a good mood today; The man's tolerance for sarcasm and any sort of superior tone used towards him highly depended on his mood, which put him into many a sticky situation. Sticky with blood, that was. "How 'bouts I dun wanna, _wench._" Nnoitra lowered his voice slightly, a seductive tone ringing slightly within the drawling words. "Now, ya gonna gimme tha' drink or am I gonna take ya outta here, hmm?"

The barmaid was visibly shocked at the implications behind the words, though Nnoitra could tell she may have been considering the latter somewhat. Quickly, before any stupid decisions could be made, she took a deep breath, held it, and walked away with the glass. Nnoitra snorted. "Shame," he sniffed. "Looked like a good 'un."

"You think so, Officer Gilga?" Said the young blonde officer beside him. Admittedly, Nnoitra had completely forgotten he was there.

"Yeah, I did. An' I told ya ta fuck the formalities, yer too fuckin' stiff Tesla."

"Ah—Yes... Then..." Tesla hesitated, as if highly uncomfortable with such casualness. Typical rich boy. "Nnoitra...?"

"Yeah, whatever." Nnoitra looked away from the excited grey eyes only to see that same barmaid from before walking up to him behind the bar, a new whisky in hand. The man had though she'd ask one of her colleagues to approach him with the new drink rather than coming herself, but it seemed she had nerve. He liked that. "Back for more, wench?"

She sniffed. "Stuff yourself." Nnoitra laughed as she slammed down the drink, sloshing the alcohol onto his hands and uniform before walking away once more. Oh yes, that was one he'd like to bed, one he'd like to work on a little. He liked them feisty... Sometimes. Gave him something to work on, to beat down into submission when he felt like fucking someone up. It was when those thoughts drifted through his head that he noticed a little piece of torn paper stuck to the side of the glass by the moisture of the alcohol. With a mild frown he peeled it off and unfolded it, only to see a short note asking to meet after. Dirty little whore; She was just the same as the rest of them. Nnoitra's interest in her had slipped dramatically from those few scribbled words on the drenched paper. Oh well, at least he'd still get a potentially good fuck that night.

"What's that Of-... Err... Nnoitra?" Tesla asked, still sounding bloody awkward. Nnoitra wondered how the hell he'd gotten so high in the ranks, but he supposed it was connections. And he'd heard the kid was good with a rifle.

"Just a lil' fan mail," A snort. "Seem ta get it a lot from them whores." Just as the blond was about to reply, Nnoitra's attention strayed to some commotion happening at the door of the bar, much like the rest of the customers. From the sounds of it, someone who wasn't supposed to be there was trying to force his way in though a crowd of younger officers was blocking his way and basically telling him to get lost. Amused by how long this stranger was continuing his attempt, Nnoitra stood and slowly ambled over towards the bustle whilst drawing curious and some fearful glances from the other officers in the bar.

"Get lost!"

"Like hell I will!"

"This is an Officers only bar!"

"Y'think I give a fuck?!"

"Y'ain't supposed to be here, brat, fuck off!"

"Think ya can make m-"

"Oi oi oi," Though only moderately loud, the voice which stopped the angered voices was chilling, dripping with the same kind of menace its owner's towering body was oozing. "What's all this bullshit? Some'a us're tryin' ta drink in peace." He said with an almost amused ring to his fairly sarcastic drawl.

"This here newcomer brat's trying to get into the bar, Officer Gilga." Reported a stern-looking black haired man with a crooked nose, fearful respect in his eyes and voice. Nnoitra remembered how, once upon a time, that nose had been nice and straight. He also remembered how he'd fixed that for him.

"Yeah, and none'a ya can stop me!" Now was the fist time Nnoitra took a look at the youth attempting to invade the premises and found that it was none other than that blue haired kid from his set of new recruits, eyes lit up with mischief and poised for a fight.

"Think so?" Purred Nnoitra. He thought he'd test the kid. He walked forwards another few steps towards the newcomer, the small crowd parting to make way for his tall frame. "Y'sure about that, brat?"

The kid snorted cockily and posed with his fists up, ready to throw a punch when necessary. "Yeah, I fuckin' think so. I can take any of ya bastards on, and I'll get in wherever the fuck I want." Nnoitra's eyes lit up slightly; A fight sounded great right about now, though he new it would be over within mere seconds with this one even if it seemed as if he had some experience in fist fights.

"Come on then," Taunted the hoarse voice that belonged to the superior Officer. "_I dare ya._" That was apparently enough—The kid was off, sending a fist flying straight at Nnoitra's abdomen. It connected, hard, with the toned muscled of his belly, having him bent slightly over. He coughed though it was just for show and it quickly morphed into a laugh. "Is that all ya got?" And it was over before it even began; Nnoitra grabbed the recruit's wrist and locked his head with his other arm, twisting him around so that his back faced Nnoitra's front and he was all but dangling by his neck. "Learn that ya don't fuck with yer superiors, brat," The Officer hissed into his recruit's ear. "Ain't never gonna end well fer ya." And with that, he dropped the kid who rubbed his neck now that he was free. He looked as if he was trying his hardest not to spit all the curse words he knew at the tall man who'd just ridiculed him in front of the whole bunch of people in the bar, many of whom seemed to be laughing now. Nnoitra sniffed.

"Get yer ass up an' come with me."

The recruit seemed reluctant at first, though when he saw that Nnoitra was turning towards the bar he seemed to recheck his options and followed the lanky man instead. Upon reaching the bar, he snarled, "Why the fuck did ya do that if ya were only going to let me fucking in anyway?!"

Nnoitra smirked. "'Cause I felt like it, problem? Now sit yer ass down an' get a drink." Another hesitation before the dyed kid sat on the worn leather of the stool. "The hell's yer name then, kid?" He hadn't bothered remembering it earlier.

After shouting at the nearest barmaid to get him some brandy, the recruit scrutinised his superior for a moment before answering. "Jaeggerjaquez. Grimmjow Jaeggerjaquez. And you're Nnoitra Gilga, Officer of Squadron Five and probably the weirdest bastard I've ever fucking met." Again, Nnoitra marvelled over how good his mood was because so often he'd punch this kid's lights out for speaking to him like that. Maybe it was the fact that this Grimmjow reminded him of himself when he was younger.

"Weird-ass fucking name."

"You can talk."

"Hah," After downing his drink, Nnoitra continued his interrogation. "So why the fuck were ya so damn desperate ta get down 'ere? Somethin' wrong with yer hangout?"

"All of those idiots down there are asswipes. Boring fucks, only talk about politics, how filthy Jews are and that bastard with the bitchcurl so thought there'd be something more interesting down here." He cocked an eyebrow. "Looks like I weren't wrong."

"Fuckin' hate them new recruits." Nnoitra rolled his eyes. "Boring little shits. But bitchcurl? What the fuck is that?"

"Y'know, that shitty little flick that Aizen has on his face?"

Now _that _set Nnoitra off into a fit of laughter so loud that others in the bar were looking over at him again to see what had happened—Never in his life had he heard that term, but he fucking loved it. He liked this kid more by the second. "HAHAHA! How the hell did ya think that up? Bitchcurl! HAHA! Fucking brilliant!"

Grimmjow looked bemused for a moment, though seemed to find Nnoitra's guffaws infectious as he was soon joining in with the laughs. When they'd calmed down, Nnoitra spoke again. "Kid, ya gotta get down 'ere more often."

The recruit looked surprised. "What about them?" He nudged his head behind him, indicating what Nnoitra assumed to be the rest of the people there.

"Pshh, they'll get over it," Sniffed Nnoitra. "They wouldn't bother tryin' ta cross me."

"Right."

The rest of the evening passed with many laughs, both of the brutes completely unaware of the judgemental stares of grey eyes from just beside their seats.

* * *

_Early hours of the next morning—Nnoitra's quarters_

Of course, Nnoitra had been correct in his latter judgement of the barmaid. A loose whore, albeit a skilled one. His violet eyes scanned over her exposed sleeping form, silky skin bathed in silver moonlight, surrounded by small spatterings of blood which always appeared when he'd had a woman around... Somewhat 'pretty', he guessed, but it didn't excite him. Rolling out of the bed with a creak of springs, he grabbed the cigar he had laying on the bedside table as well as some matches before leaning against the window frame and opening the thin pane of glass and lighting the cigar. He'd gotten off on that,let off some steam, but it was nothing special. Nothing that left a lasting impression on him, nothing that would make him want her to come back into his room. Well, maybe for a blow job, but nothing else.

With a dull look in his eyes, Nnoitra took a drag of his cigar as he stared out of the open window, simply wondering. Was there any woman out there who would ever fulfil him and his desires? Was there a woman out there strong enough to take him without complaint whilst also not being afraid to defy him? Hah, not in this universe. A cloud of foul-smelling smoke rose out of the Officer's wide mouth, twisting and curling in the chilly night air as he watched with bland interest, subconsciously trying to pick out shapes from the white mass until he noticed movement from the corner of his eye.

Nnoitra's head snapped quickly in the direction of the movement and glared into the darkness till he spotted what had roused his interest—It seemed it was a girl with voluminous wavy hair decorated with a sea green ribbon, carrying what looked like an empty basket as she swiftly but quietly jogged (apparently barefoot) over to the gate which led to the Commander's threshold where she slipped out a key and opened it. Silently she sneaked in and ran towards the sizeable house, in which the main man of this establishment lived with his family, and disappeared, leaving Nnoitra looking more befuddled than he ever thought possible.

Who the hell was that girl? What the hell was she doing? Why hadn't he seen her before? Question after question echoed in Nnoitra's mind as he stood watching the spot in which the mystery female had vanished. He wanted to know the answers to all of his questions and wouldn't stop until he got them. A determined expression on his face, the Officer turned around and tossed the now unlit half cigar out of the window before climbing into bed to get a few hours sleep before sunrise though he wondered if he could. For whatever reason, he wanted that woman. He wanted that woman and he damn well was going to get her.

* * *

A/N: Hello hello, everyone who may or may not be reading this here note! First of all, let me thank everyone who has favourited and followed this story and my account, I hope I have not disappointed you with this chapter! As promised, it's quite a lot longer than the "prologue" chapter and hopefully future chapters will be longer still.

Now to move on to apologies... I'm ever so sorry it took me so damn long to release this, but I really have had a lot going on in real life including health issues and school stress. Sometimes I just have too much on my head to write much! On top of that, the way in which I've written this chapter has changed so many times it's ridiculous... I ended up thinking that this one was my best bet and left it at that. I hope I made the right decision!

Time for some explanations. This fanfic is set in an AU at a time which is based heavily on World War 2, though has some differences including the fact that Aizen is there instead of Hitler as well as other things. So yes, this is a somewhat historical fanfiction, though with something of a twist I guess... I'm trying not to base it entirely on that time frame, but enough to make it somewhat obvious that it is. Like the whole Jew thing. (~; ) Well, it's something I've never seen before in the fandom so I thought I'd give it a try! If anyone ever has any suggestions about how I can make my writing or background better, please send me a message! I'd love to hear from you!

Thank you again to my subscribers, please stick with me. I'll try my best to update more often, okay? (ouo; )

Oh yes, and please Rate and Review!

P.s. Any ideas about who the mysterious girl in the night might be? (▽ Ó ) ~*


End file.
